


What It Ought to Be

by PontiusHermes



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angel of Music, Angst, Beauty - Freeform, Candles, Crying, Darkness, Dedication to Art, Drabble, Gen, Masks, Music, Organ, Phantom - Freeform, Poor Erik, Poor Unhappy Erik, Sad, Tears, angel - Freeform, light - Freeform, non-romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:23:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PontiusHermes/pseuds/PontiusHermes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth, and the truth isn't what you want to see...'<br/>But perhaps music tells the greatest truth of all...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What It Ought to Be

**Author's Note:**

> 195 word drabble about Erik, the Phantom of the Opera (amalgamation of original and musical versions where disfigurement is concerned) - my favourite character. Both work title and first line of summary are taken from Lloyd Webber's 'Music of the Night' (from 'The Phantom of the Opera').  
> Please enjoy.  
> Hermes

Erik wept.  
His vision distorted as the hot tears gathered in his yellow eyes, the lit candle on his organ transforming into a wobbly rivulet of light. Pale fingers, skeletal but strong from years of playing unwaveringly caressed the keys, needless of sight to guide them. His heavenly voice, miraculously unconstricted, rose into the grotto, delicate and smooth as a thin stream of syrup.

The snowy half-mask lay on the floor, flung irritably and unwanted into a dusty corner. On the organ’s stand, a thick book of music lay open, abandoned so many pages before when the musician became too absorbed to turn the brittle leaves. He required no notation to tell him what to play; the piece was a familiar path trodden so often that it could be safely run on a moonless night.

Erik leaned forward and gently extinguished the solitary candle with a breath.

The notes of the powerful organ soared, each exquisitely wrought, divine. Erik’s pure voice followed, dancing deftly through the unmarred blackness of a kingdom with no need for light.

In the merciful darkness, one would have been forgiven for swearing that they heard the voice of an angel.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading. Comments are always appreciated.  
> Hermes


End file.
